hair enchanting like the space between stars

pink pillow lips

eyes brown as fresh soil

MY EYES ARE GREEN

a warm voice reminiscent of the California sun she was born brightly into

I'M FROM MICHIGAN, I TOLD -

skin to skin, soul to soul

sparks flew as our bodies melted into one

WHAT?! WE DIDN'T EVEN KISS!

our relationship blooming...

IT WAS ONE DATE

...as spring bloomed all around us

PRETTY SURE IT WAS NOVEMBER

dazzling love at first glance

from across a field

brimming with dancing butterflies

birds serenading us in song

and -

WE MET ON TINDER, GREG

Love has no gender, no reason or rhyme

Love is just love, it is not a crime

Don’t let bullies or bigots ruin your life

If you’re a girl, you can have a wife

Boys can love boys, yes, it is true

And don’t forget transgenders, they matter, too

There are more options than I can name

No two persons are exactly the same

Love is love, remember that’s true

Keep your heart open and love will find you.

Sometimes I think

I’ve lived too long -

a thousand years

of turmoil

engraved

on my skin.

Layers of light

rising out of reach,

interlaced thoughts

obscured by fog.

Coldness cleaving

to my soul

in icy daggers.

I look within

and see beginnings

of precious times

still to come -

the future pulses

within my heartbeat

as I feel warmth

of liquid sun

rebounding in waves

of promise.

My favorite word is the...  I use it a lot. In fact so much so that I've been consciously trying to omit and delete it. Which is not easy to do, but possible as you can see by this brief, near pristine paragraph. It's amazing how negotiable this term is... if I have a word count issue, it's my first bargaining chip, plus or minus... I also am amused by a memory of not being able to spell the... its phonetics off from its appearance... the is a strange little word... one that does not exist in many languages. For instance, in Polish, there's no such thing, you simply name the object.

The is going to be difficult to define without an inclination to use that word itself... but doable... It is an article denoting a directed point of singularity, though not particularity... it's not one at random, not this one, nor that one; Yet one, just so.

I note that my Oxford dictionary, in it's oppressively long definition, was not able to avoid using that word in its definition...!

I'm using my hardcover copy, mostly, but their website link, although differing in wording, is similar  https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/the

ps. italics where my impulse was to use the word the...

pss. my second favorite word is the (!) other article, a... *sigh! which is also hard to define... it is the (!) opposite of the, being anyone in general...

#FavoriteWord #Challenge

<font face="Helvetica" size="3" color="silver">01.29.2018</font>

Initially, the one word here is: Copacetic.

Its meaning: to keep things in excellant order.

Am I a neat freak? Hardly. (I like my dust to be spread evenly throughout the house.) Just not one for having to search for something all day long. As the saying has gone on and on: Every thing has its place, and every place has its thing.

There are times I use copacetic with two others when asked how I am, or how I am doing.

"Cool, calm, and copacetic."

(Well, in most cases. Takes a great deal to get to the point I break out my .357 to rearrange a person's thinking.)

I love my brain when it works.

That's not often by the way,

Oftentimes my mind just hurts.

Creativity's really hard. Like-

...love that scars;

Imagination's junkyard;

SPAGHETTI

She skipped over, and leaned into the concrete balustrade with her elbows locked, shoes slipping from her tippy-toes.

"What are you over-look-ing?" she said grandly with her princess smile, as he pressed her to his side.

Seeing her, his mind relaxed and suggested, "Nothing," in response; but a certain reflex circumvented the thought.

"Everything," he said. "Everything."

<font face="Helvetica" size="3" color="silver">01.15.2018</font>

Alas my love has,

worn through years as,

I have loved another.

Was I to suffer?

I miss your kiss

I miss it at night

I miss it at day

I miss it when the sky fills with the firecrackers

and the abusive starlight

I miss your touch

I miss your heart

My sunshine

tastes

like rasberries

covered in love

and sprinkled

with

powdery sugar

just like

a sweet caress

of a day

so blissfull

and smelling like

the flowers

floating

in my dreams

the endering taste

of

my

heated

skin

as the colors

turn

from creamy peach

to a delicate

hazelnut brown

the sunrays

on my lips

flavoured

delicoiously

like a summer's daze

my sunshine tastes

like your love

....................................................

Originally writen, while having this post in mind https://theprose.com/challenge/6485

and later devoloping memory loss ;)